


rookie mistake

by fideliter



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Gen, I'm so sorry, i have Failed, this is a kink meme fill but there are zero kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliter/pseuds/fideliter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deacon is a master of disguise. And the Sole Survivor, well. She's still got some learning to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rookie mistake

**Author's Note:**

> My first kink meme fill! 
> 
> Prompt was [F!SS hits on Deacon in different costumes, and pretends it's not her when he asks about it on their missions.](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=15698899#t15698899).

He doesn't bother going out on missions alone these days.

It just doesn't make sense, not anymore. Not when the Railroad's newest agent seems all too eager to have him out in the field with her. Sitting around and waiting for her to show up might seem desperate, or like a waste of time, but she's never kept him waiting for long. Ever since he offered, she had agreed. He doesn't mind the constant adventuring, though; it breaks up the normal routine, and traveling with her is _never_ dull. Together they make their way through the Commonwealth, doing good deeds and bringing mayhem to those who _don't_.

Sometimes he misses the isolation, but hey. He can't complain too much - not when she's good at what she does, which is namely _destruction._ It lets him stretch his legs, see the 'Weath in a way he's never seen it before. Having someone at his back (and watching it) takes some getting used to, but by now, he'd miss her humming, the whine of the mangy mutt who's always at her heels.

So when they swing by HQ and she leaves him there, he's a bit put off. They had a good thing going, right? Why mess with it? Especially when HQ has never been busier (with more and more synths stuck in the pipe, thanks to the safe houses being compromised), and they had a few more dead drops to hit. After a quick chat with Tinker Tom (whose eyes light up like it's Christmas when she drops off new gear for him to fiddle with), she's out the door - and Deacon tries his best to settle into his old routine. Thinks that, maybe, she'll be gone for a day or two (she _did_ mention visiting Vault 81), and then she'd be back. 

But then, weeks roll by without even the _slightest_ hint of her.

It wouldn't be the first time an agent - a _heavy_ \- went dark, and Deacon knew it wouldn't be the last. But still... _shit._ Desdemona seems hesitant to mark her down for the count, and everyone keeps an ear on the radio - just in case. That DJ seems fascinated with her (or maybe it's just the extravagant feats she seems drawn to), but he's been recycling the same news since she left. 

So, life goes on. 

\---

He finds himself in Diamond City, sitting on one of the uncomfortable stools as he waits for the robot behind the counter to finish making his food. The locals don't trust _anyone_ , not anymore, but they _especially_ don't trust someone who doesn't eat the noodles. The radio drones on, a love song crooning from the speakers, but his attention isn't on the song - or the food. 

It's on the woman, who just sat down across the noodle bar. She's wearing a flashy red dress that would stand out in even the fanciest of places (not that, you know, Diamond City isn't oozing with class), a well-preserved jacket layered over it. Her movements are smooth, gentle; they're refined and _graceful_ , and that makes her stand out even more than the outfit. 

And her eyes...

Well. He's only ever met one other person with eyes like _that._

She doesn't notice him, not at first - she's too busy chatting up another resident. Her voice is almost familiar (but not in the same way her eyes are), but it's masked; an accent? He watches her lips, how they move around the words, and yeah, it's definitely an accent. But it's mild, and she keeps slipping in and out of it. Just a few words are off, and the guy she's chatting up doesn't seem to notice.

The hair is different, too, strawberry blonde where he's used to seeing dark brown. All things considered, they're small changes, but he can't stop himself from staring - trying to catch her eye. Because he _knows_ her. 

After his food has been delivered, it works.

And she offers him a smile from under her eyelashes, something between sultry and coy.

There's a swing in her hips as she excuses herself from her conversation and makes the trek to the stool next to his. He leans his elbows on the counter, chin balanced on his palm as she sits down, offering a small, tittering laugh as she sits down.

"Do you come here often?" She asks, her shy smile widening just a little, and he _knows._

\--

She returns to HQ a few days after he does, quick to catch Des up on what all had happened. He definitely doesn't eavesdrop on _that_ conversation (nope, definitely not!), but still feels _relieved_ when she swings by and invites him back out.

They make it three, maybe four blocks before he says something. 

"So. I was in Diamond City the other day..." he starts, chancing a glance at her over his sunglasses. She's busy trying to navigate her way over a precarious-looking rubble pile (going _around_ it meant missing out on the _good stuff_ ), but she pauses, looking like a queen atop her rubble throne. 

"Oh? Don't tell me you fell for the tour trick." Her voice is muffled, as she's digging through the rubble, stuffing certain items into her pack. She only ever seems to pick up _junk_ , but he knows better than to comment on it. "Piper's sister got me _twice_ with that." Especially now, when she's avoiding the subject.

"Yeah, no, didn't get the tour. But I did try the noodles." And _that's_ got her attention. She rises from where she was bent at the waist, dark hair falling in her eyes as she looks down at him. She blinks, considering, as she shoves the tin can in already over-stuffed bag, too. 

"From the robot?" She asks, and when he nods, she shrugs. The leather on her armor creaks a little, freshly made. He didn't see her use the crafting table at HQ, though, and the woman in the red dress _definitely_ had grease smudges on her fingers. 

Rookie mistake.

"Want me to carry that?" He asks, nodding towards the pack. Might as well grab it before she shoves anything else in there, since he'll end up carrying it anyway. She smiles, bright like the sun, before shoving it at him and grabbing her main pack. When she takes a minute to re-organize it, Deacon lets his eyes linger. 

Between other clothes, folded, he sees a flash of red fabric.

"They were pretty good, you know. The noodles," He continues, needling. Then, after a moment, he keeps going, perhaps a little _too_ far: "I liked it. Them. The noodles." 

That gets him a smile, even if she _does_ look confused. He thinks that, maybe, he got it wrong - but then he remembers that he's Deacon and he _never_ gets it wrong. Still doesn't know _why_ though, and that's half the battle.

She swings the pack onto her back, gives another shrug. But she's smiling, still, eyes creasing in the corner - the look she wears when she knows something _secret._ "That so? Huh. Maybe I'll have to try them, the next time I'm in town."

With that, she hops back down on the cracked highway and they're off.

\--

The next time he's out on a solo mission, this time to Goodneighbor, there's a woman at the bar who looks road weary and exhausted. A caravan guard, maybe. Or a drifter.

But when he sits down, she's nothing but smiles, leaning over to buy him a drink.

(This time, he knows her by the necklace he can see peeking underneath her collar.)


End file.
